


Stranger Things

by xylophones



Series: Monster Week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Body Horror, Cults, Eldritch, Existential Horror, Existentialism, Getting Together, Humor, Lovecraftian Monster(s), M/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 00:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylophones/pseuds/xylophones
Summary: Viktor laughs. “You’re not, like, a cult leader or something right?”“Um.” Yuuri winces. “N-Not the leader, no.”Viktor stops laughing.(Or: There’s something living underneath the university, something dark and hungry and ancient.)





	Stranger Things

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the first work in my Monster Week series! Every day from now until Halloween, I'll post one spooky au! Despite the tags, these are all pretty light-hearted LOL 
> 
> This isn't part of the yoi Halloween week–– mostly because I wrote the majority of these before I saw the prompts T.T–– but I'm SUPER in love with all the submissions I've seen for that so far! 
> 
> Also! this isn't a stranger things au sorry but im super hyped for season 2 today!!

Yuuri Katsuki is _adorable_.

Viktor figures this out 10 seconds after meeting him. He’s all soft curves and subtle beauty; sweet smiles hiding behind a chunky sweater and thick glasses. He introduces himself as a writer first and a professor second. Viktor learns, through Chris later, that he teaches creative writing and has been teaching at the university for a long time.

“I’m actually an alumnus,” Yuuri tells him later, when Viktor goes to visit him in his office. “Dr. Celestino taught this creative writing class when I was a freshman and it changed my life. I switched majors and I’ve been writing ever since.”

For a writer, Yuuri is pretty quiet. Viktor thinks this might just be because he and Yuuri don’t know each other very well yet. Yuuri always seems to be in Phichit’s office, laughing so loud you can hear it from the stairwell. Viktor has also seen him engaging in heated debates with Seung-Gil.

Yuuri is _absolutely_ adorable. Especially when he’s speaking passionately about something.

“You know, I used to write, too,” Viktor mentions.

“Really? Fiction or…?”

“Fantasy and Sci-Fi,” Viktor says. “But I never published anything.”

“Oh,” Yuuri blinks those wide, beautiful eyes up at him. “Why not?”

There are a million things Viktor could say here. He never had time to finish a complete draft–– except that’s not true, he keeps himself busy to avoid thinking about his writing. He never produced anything he was proud of–– only that’s because he can’t stand to read his own writing enough to edit. Viktor hasn’t loved writing in a very long time, not the way Yuuri does.

“Ah, life got in the way, and then I just stopped,” Viktor says instead. Yuuri shakes his head in sympathy.

“Well, if you ever want to start up again, I’m always writing in the teacher’s lounge. I could help you out with ideas, proofread things, whatever you want.”

“If that means spending more time with you, then I’m in,” Viktor responds, frighteningly sincere. He doesn’t know where this is all coming from. There’s just _something_ about Yuuri Katsuki.

 

 

 

After that conversation with Yuuri, Viktor can’t stop thinking about writing. He tries opening his old drafts, but on a whim deletes them all instead. He opens up a new document, dims all the lights in his apartment, and just starts writing.

On that first night, he writes straight until dawn, and then writes more when he gets to his office.

It’s not good, he is a little rusty after all. But there’s something behind it now. Some spark that was missing for a long time, an old friend that Viktor’s delighted to see again.

 

 

 

The weeks pass in a blur. Viktor’s students are all so precious, he doesn’t remember being nearly as curious as a freshman. They’re always asking him questions and showing up to his office hours to debate the novels they read. Yuri tells him it’s because all his students think he’s hot and just want an excuse to talk to him. Viktor tells him that they _all_ know about his horrible crush on Professor Katsuki at this point.

To Viktor’s delight, Yuuri and Yuri get along fine. Yuri likes to walk to the university and sit in on classes after his high school gets out. For the first few weeks, he was a permanent fixture in Viktor’s 3:30 class, but after a while he stopped showing up.

This is because he’s too busy sitting in on Yuuri’s creative writing 3:30. Viktor figures this out because one day he cancels his 3:30 and sits in on Yuuri’s creative writing class.

Yuri freezes in the door when he sees Viktor sitting in the front row, chatting happily with Yuuri.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses, throwing his stuff into the seat next to Viktor and glaring. “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“I canceled because I didn’t finish grading their papers. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Katsudon is a better teacher than my actual English teacher.”

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Katsudon?”

“It’s an inside joke,” Yuri says. “It’s kind of sad that I’m better friends with your friends than you are.”

“Yuuri and I are great friends!” Viktor squawks indignantly.

Yuuri laughs and for a second Viktor swears he _flickers._ He just blinks out of reality. But then he’s back, snickering and teasing Yuri about his handwriting.

Viktor blinks. He’s so sleep deprived that now he’s imagining things. He really should stop staying up until 3 AM to write, it’s starting to take a toll on him. Yuuri goes on teaching his class and Viktor swears he flickers a couple more times. There’s a solid minute and a half where VIktor can’t look directly at him. No matter how hard he tries, his eyes just slide off Yuuri, only keeping him in his peripheral. It’s unsettling.

After that day in class, Viktor starts noticing some other… strange occurrences.

He was so caught up in adjusting to his new job that he completely missed some of the weirder things about the university. Like how the elevator in the library has almost half a dozen buttons below the basement floor, all requiring a key to work. Or how the other professors avoid the language professors like the plague. At first Viktor thought that was just some friendly department rivalry, but last week one of the calculus professors turned around and walked back into the math building when he saw Viktor and Yuuri walking his way.

Viktor tries not to stay at work too late. After the sun goes down, the atmosphere at the university shifts completely. Viktor swears he hears chanting and large groups of people moving around campus. At first he chalked it up to frat boys, but now he isn’t so sure.

He isn’t sure about a lot of things, including his feelings about Yuuri.

He’s different. Magnetizing. He’s sweet and soft, but there’s a darker edge to him. An air of mystery. Viktor can’t put his finger on it, it’s just––

Sometimes he looks at Yuuri and isn’t sure what he’s looking at is human.

 

 

 

After a staff meeting, JJ pulls him aside.

“Stay away from Yuuri Katsuki,” he says.

Viktor blinks. “What?”

JJ clasps a firm hand on Viktor’s shoulder, despite the fact that VIktor is taller than him. “Stay away from him. Chulanont and Celestino, too.”

Viktor glares. “That’s going to be hard, considering Celestino is the head of our department. Now, if you’ll excuse me––” Viktor ducks out of JJ’s grip. “Don’t you have a French 3 class to teach?”

“Something isn’t right about him,” JJ says. “Something isn’t right about this entire place.”

 

 

 

On a late October day, Viktor finally musters up the courage to ask Yuuri to hang out with him outside of school. They agree to meet up at a cafe half-way between their apartments and talk about their current writing projects. Viktor is thrilled.

“It’s not a date,” he says to himself in the mirror. “Be cool.”

Yuri bangs on the bathroom door. “Stop being so weird! And get out, I need to get ready for practice!”

Viktor opens the door, but blocks Yuri’s path in. “Is this outfit okay? Does it look like I’m trying too hard?”

“Yes, now _move_.” Yuri pushes past him, shoves Viktor out, and slams the bathroom door in his face.

“Should I change then? Yura, help me! I’m not good at this!”

“And you think I, a teenager with one friend, can help you?!” Yuri shouts through the door. Viktor hears the shower start and figures he should probably get going.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge,” Viktor says, before he grabs his laptop and wallet and goes.

It’s a cold day. Viktor regrets not bringing a scarf. He makes it to the cafe in one piece, though he can’t feel his toes and he’s pretty sure his face is bright pink. He stands at the door, scanning the cafe to see if Yuuri already got a table and––

There he is.

Yuuri looks _stunning_ in his loose white shirt and tight black pants; elegant and simple, severe yet soft. He looks like a dream, like something Viktor made up in his head. Something flickers in Yuuri’s eyes, like looking down into deep water and seeing a flash of movement somewhere far beneath the surface where the sunlight doesn’t reach. He looks ethereal, he looks––

( _Inhuman_ , his brain hisses, _Other; like a vengeful god, ancient and seething; beautiful and deadly, with the stars at his fingertips and the void woven into his bones; a siren, luring men to their deaths; a venus fly trap, waiting, waiting, waiting–)_

Viktor ignores this. He smiles and heads over to Yuuri’s table.

“Hey!”

 

 

 

Viktor’s novel really starts shaping up.

It’s a romance horror book, of course. It’s strange, he’s never liked writing horror. He doesn’t even like reading it. For some reason, the words just come to him now.

And if the protagonist resembles Yuuri? Well, no one will know. He’ll never publish this, it’s fine.

(He gives the protagonist a love interest with shining silver hair and a heart-shaped grin. He tells himself that it’s _fine_.)

 

 

 

He’s just trying to walk home.

Viktor’s car is in the shop, so he took the bus to work today. He _knew_ he should have kept an eye on the time, but he got so caught up in ripping his student’s first essays into shreds that he missed the last bus. So now he needs to trek all the way back to his apartment, lugging his heavy paperbox and his highly fashionable, but barely functional satchel along with him.

It’s not a far walk, honestly. But it is dark.

Viktor thinks about all the folk tales his mother used to tell him, about the Baba Yaga and Koschei. And Yura keeps insisting they go out to watch horror movies in theatres. Viktor _hates_ horror movies. He has an overactive imagination, which is really kicking into gear right now.

He rounds the corner, stopping for a moment by the mouth of an alleyway, underneath a streetlamp, to readjust his grip on the box. _Why_ didn’t he switch to electronic paper submission? That’s what he gets for being extra.

He doesn’t see the masked man until it’s too late.

“Give me your wallet!”

Viktor blinks. He looks up from his pile of essays and at the man standing in front of him, clad in a ski mask and a hoodie. He’s holding a gun.

“Really?” Viktor very slowly puts down his box. “I’m a teacher, what are you going to steal from me? Shitty papers done by freshman?”

“I’m not kidding!” the masked man points the gun at him.

Viktor’s not going to lie, he’s scared shitless.

“Okay, I’m reaching for my wallet.”

Viktor reaches into his pocket, only to come up empty. Shit.

“I don’t have my wallet,” he explains. “I-I must have left it in my office.”

“Bullshit,” the man grunts. He shakes the gun insistently. “Wallet or I shoot.”

“I don’t have my wallet,” Viktor repeats. “Do you want–– I have a Starbucks giftcard?”

“Enough joking.” He steps forward, pushing Viktor back further into the alleyway, the muzzle pressed up against Viktor’s chest, right over his heart. “Give me your wallet or I’ll shoot.”

 

 

 

Viktor will think about what happens next for the rest of his life.

There are certain things you can’t unsee; there are certain horrors that can’t be wiped from your memory, no matter how hard you try to forget.

There are some things that stick to the very essence of your soul, black and made of terror and alive.

 

 

 

The shadows further down the alleyway solidify, pooling and flowing like the thickest, darkest oil that Viktor has ever seen. A voice, calm and layered through with all the voices of the dark dimension.

“Put the gun down.”

The mugger starts, flinching back. Unfortunately for Viktor, he squeezes the trigger in his panic.

Time slows down. A tentacle shoots out from the darkness and wraps itself around the gun, dissolving it and the man’s hand into oblivion. Viktor can see _into_ his arm, where the darkness left a precise, clean cut. He sees the tendons and muscles that make up his forearm, the white circle of bone, and the deep velvet red of marrow inside it.

Viktor screams. The man screams. The darkness laughs.

“Go,” it says, “before I take your other hand too.”

The man races out of the alleyway, cradling the stump where his hand used to be. Viktor turns to look into the darkness.

“Don’t––!”

It’s… nothing. And everything. Viktor gets lost in the void, the flat blackness containing multitudes sitting at the end of this dingy alleyway. The darkness before him is all-consuming. Calm descends on Viktor's mind, wrapping him up in a fog of infinite, inky black. He distantly feels himself step forward.

“No!”

The darkness collapses into itself like a black hole, folding and condensing down until it no longer coats the alleyway. It coalesces down into a familiar figure, wearing a chunky sweater and blue glasses.

“Viktor, don’t come any closer.”

Viktor blinks. “Y… Yuuri?”

“Yes,” he says, in that same calm, layered voice that the darkness spoke in. “Don’t come closer, not until I can send it all back.”

Viktor staggers back as Yuuri _pulls_ the remaining darkness towards him. It’s like a rug is being pulled out from under him as reality stretches towards Yuuri. For a moment, his silhouette flashes bright white and then pitch black **.** Then Viktor blinks and it’s Yuuri, wringing his hands and cautiously approaching him.

“Viktor?” When Yuuri speaks this time, there are no layers, no voices coming from the void. It’s just Yuuri, safe and warm and disarmingly adorable.

“What…?” Viktor staggers forward, reaching a hand out to fist in Yuuri’s jumper, feeling him to make sure he’s real. “Was that you?”

“Y-yes. Um, hi?”

“You saved my life.” Viktor snaps back into his own body. “Yuuri. What _are_ you?”

“Ah, it’s not what I am,” Yuuri mumbles, “it’s what I can call on, _who_ I can call on. I can explain, let’s head back to my office. It’s really important that we’re on campus for this.”

The walk back to the university is quiet, unnaturally so. There are no cars, no other pedestrians, nothing. Viktor can’t even hear his own footsteps. Halfway through, Viktor looks over at Yuuri and sees his hands glowing black.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a bubble,” he explains. “It’s–– what you saw is dangerous and I don't know if anything stuck to you. I need to make sure no one else runs into us.”

“What I saw… you mean the––” Viktor tries, but he finds that there are no words he has that describes the experience. He tries every language he knows–– Russian, English, French–– nothing. Even thinking about it too long is difficult. The images and feelings he saw earlier slide through his memory like a dark eel in water. He can feel a headache coming on.

“Don't try to talk about it, you'll make yourself worse”

When they get to Yuuri's office, Viktor collapses down onto the couch across from his desk. Yuuri immediately goes for his tea cabinet, pulling out a mason jar full of purple, sparkling powder, and then two genmaicha tea bags.

Neither of them speak while the water boils.

“Drink this,” Yuuri instructs him. He places one of the cups of tea in front of Viktor, stirring in some sugar and three tablespoons of the purple powder. “It'll make your head feel better.”

Viktor gulps it down like a dying man. His migraine dissipates. Now a little more steady, he glances unto the mug.

“Is there glitter in this?”

Yuuri ducks his head. “Its edible glitter. Phichit thought all our potions looked too spooky, so he added glitter into the mix when no one was looking.”

“Okay, whats going on?” Viktor sits up and leans closer to Yuuri, who averts his eyes. “Yuuri, first you saved me by–– I don’t even know? Summoning the entire universe into that alleyway?–– and now you're talking about Phichit and potions. Something weird is happening here. Something weird has been happening for a while.”

“Weird is right,” Yuuri mutters. “Okay. I’m going to tell you something, just promise not to freak out, okay? I really like you and––”

Viktor perks up. “You like me?”

“That’s–– um, yes? But that's not what you were asking, so––”

“Like, romantically right? You like me romantically?”

Yuuri groans and buries his face in his hands. “This is _not_ how I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay, we can talk about it later.” Viktor grins. He’s gone through quite the emotional roller coaster today. “Go on, what were you going to tell me?”

“It's… strange.”

“What can be stranger than what I saw earlier?” Viktor laughs. “You’re not, like, a cult leader or something right?”

“Um.” Yuuri winces. “N-Not the _leader_ , no.”

Viktor stops laughing.

Yuuri takes a sip of his own tea, sans the sparkly purple powder. Viktor gulps.

“Does this cult have anything to do with the black magic you were doing earlier?”

“Yes. “

“Are you a… witch?”

Yuuri snorts. “Witches don't exist.”

Viktor throws up his hands. “Well, how am I supposed to know? This is all new for me!”

“I know, I know.” Yuuri turns his brown doe eyes on Viktor and _wow_. How is this the same person that _unmade_ a guy’s hand just thirty minutes ago? “I’m sorry, I knew we should have told you sooner. Phichit said––”

“Wait, Phichit’s in the cult?”

Yuuri winces. “Again, it’s not a _cult––_ it’s more like a… secret organization.”

“And you and Phichit are members?”

“Me, Phichit, Seung-Gil, Leo and Guang Hong, uh.” Yuuri purses his lips. “Celestino is the leader. Oh, Chris drops by sometimes, if he’s free.”

“Was _every_ professor in the languages department part of the secret cult except me?”

“JJ isn’t one of us,” Yuuri says quickly.

“You’re not making me feel any better.”

“Sorry! I mean, most of the other professors here aren’t with us. They _know_ about the, um, god underneath the school, but they’re not a part of our group.”

“The _god_ underneath the school.” That was definitely not mentioned during his training.

“There’s this, um, ancient being who lives underneath the library. She’s mostly harmless, as long as we feed her. That’s what the group is for. Most of the other professors just ignore us.”

Viktor snorts.

Yuuri frowns. “You said you were going to be cool about this. Listen, if it’s too weird I can just go––”

“No!” Viktor places a gentle hand on Yuuri’s arm before he even moves to leave. He smiles apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll listen, I promise. It’s just a lot to take in, you know? It’s been a long day.”

Yuuri sends him a small smile in return. “Yeah, I know. But, it’s late anyway and I’m not doing a very good job of explaining things. Maybe we should just–– can you meet me here tomorrow? At six? I’ll ask Phichit to come and maybe he can answer some of your questions.”

“Do you have to go?” Viktor pouts.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Yuuri promises him. He stands and then, collecting Viktor’s mug and leading him to the door. Yuuri locks up his office behind them and, after a moment of consideration, leans up and presses a light kiss to Viktor’s cheek.

“Tomorrow,” Yuuri says again. Viktor feels like his face is on fire. “Oh, and Viktor?”

“Y-Yes?” Viktor croaks.

“We don’t perform sacrifices,” he says.

And then he’s gone, down the hall, swallowed up by the darkness.

Viktor touches the spot Yuuri kissed. He grins to himself.

 

 

 

The next day he meets Phichit and Yuuri. He didn’t sleep the night before, too busy thinking about… whatever it was he saw last night. He sits down heavily in his usual armchair, after making himself a cup of tea. He loves how domestic that feels, making himself tea in Yuuri’s office. It’s almost enough to distract him.

Almost.

“So,” he says. He looks at Phichit and Yuuri expectantly.

“Right! Um, so.” Yuuri waves his hand at Phichit. “This is Phichit. Um, you knew that, though, but––”

“Listen, Viktor,” Phichit butts in. “You’ve got a rare opportunity here. We can answer all your questions about us, or our god, or the cult––”

“Not a cult!” Yuuri interrupts. “And organization.”

“–– or the _organization_ , or the secrets of the universe and whatever. And you don’t even have to go through the hazing process!”

“Hazing?” Viktor gulps.

“Like a frat, but full of existential questions. And squid,” Yuuri shudders. “Lots and lots of raw squid.”

“So!” Phichit claps his hands together, his grin distinctly sharklike. “Questions?”

“Uh, what do you guys, like… do… with it? The god?” Viktor asks. He takes a cautious sip of his tea.

“Okay, well, ‘it’ has a name, and her name is Lunala,” Phichit informs him.

Viktor blinks, stunned. “She’s a monstrous, ancient god from another dimension and you named her after a Pokemon?”

“She kind of looks like Lunala and, well, she responds to the name.” Yuuri shrugs. “Anyway, we basically just do whatever she wants us to? She kind of sends us telepathic instructions and–– I don’t know how to describe it? It’s like she sends us _ideas_. We also feed her and make sure she’s comfortable. She lives in the cavern beneath the library.”

“There’s a cavern beneath the library? And she lives in it? In a giant rocky pit?”

“Well. Home is home.”

“Right.” Viktor picks up his mug again. How is this his life? “You said you feed it–– uh, her? What does she eat?”

Phichit’s hand darts out and clamps around Viktor’s wrist. He leans in menacingly.

“She eats young, handsome Russian literature professors,” he hisses.

Viktor shrieks. Phichit bursts into laughter.

“I’m just fucking with you! She eats children.”

“ _Phichit_ ,” Yuuri admonishes, but he looks amused. Traitor. “She doesn’t eat children, she eats their ideas. Or like, not specifically child ideas. Uh, wow this sounds bad.”

Viktor tries desperately to calm his pulse.

“Basically, we feed her ideas from our students,” Phichit cuts in, still looking pleased with himself. “She likes weird stuff. New concepts, or ideas the deviate from the norm. She’s like, if the cookie monster ate term papers. And had a bunch of tentacles.”

“She likes new stories the most,” Yuuri says proudly. “My creative writing students’ finals last year kept her full for almost an entire month.”

“Okay,” Viktor says slowly. “Um. By the way, am I supposed to tell anyone about this?”

Phichit’s fake-scary smile turns real-scary. “Who did you tell?”

“Just Yura, my little brother! He was worried when I came home late, and then I had to tell him about the mugging, but he didn’t believe me when I said I shooed off the guy by myself––”

Yuuri giggles.

“–– so, I told him. And I’m not going to lie, I’m probably going to tell him everything you just told me. He spends enough time on campus, he has the right to know.”

“Most of the students don’t know, but okay,” Phichit says. “We can make an exception for Yurio, only because he sometimes sits in on my into to pop culture class.”

Viktor blinks. “Does he attend everyone’s lectures but mine?”

“Not JJ’s,” Phichit and Yuuri chorus.

They go back and forth for hours, Viktor asking any and every question he can think of while Yuuri tries to keep Phichit’s answers truthful. It’s interesting. It explains the weird groups in robes and the chanting and the buttons on the library elevator. It explains why if you’re on campus at 3 AM exactly–– which Viktor _does not_ recommend, no matter how behind on grading papers you are–– the lights flicker exactly 6 times. And, apparently, drinking Lunala’s blood will make you immortal, so.

“No one really knows how old Ciao Ciao is,” Phichit whispers conspiratorially.

“He’s forty-five.” Yuuri says.

“I heard he was around even before the dinosaurs!”

“He was born in 1972. I’ve seen pictures of him as a teenager in the 80s.”

“Who knows how long he’s roamed this earth, punishing poor unsuspecting pop culture professors with dumb _regulations_ and ‘ _no, Phichit, you can’t fail half your class because they don’t know who Beyonce is_.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and smiles fondly. He says to Viktor, “drinking her blood won’t make you immortal, you’ll just age slower.”

“That’s why Ciao Ciao has so much hair! He’s been growing it since the 1800s!”

Phichit and Yuuri insist on walking him to the edge of campus, which, honestly? It’s not like he’s going to get mugged. Well, again. At least not in broad daylight.

Yuuri pulls Viktor aside before he leaves.

“I was thinking last night,” he starts, “and I wanted to apologize. It wasn’t fair for me to spring all this on you. It’s pretty intense and I… I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

“Honestly,” Viktor says, “if accepting your deathless, knowledge eating mom is what it takes to be your boyfriend, then count me in.”

“Boyfriend?”

Viktor blushes. “Uh, yeah? Is the word ‘boyfriend’ too juvenile sounding? W-We could use partner or––”

“Boyfriend is good,” Yuuri breathes out. “Boyfriend is–– great.”

“Great,” Viktor echoes.

They smile dopily at each other until Phichit yells at Yuuri to hurry up.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” Yuuri asks hopefully.

“Monday,” Viktor says.

Yuuri turns and jogs to catch up to Phichit, leaving dark footprints in the snow. Too dark. Viktor squints and he thinks he sees oily tentacles flickering in the dark spaces where Yuuri had stepped.

 

 

 

November goes by in a flurry of snowstorms and graded papers. Remarkably, all of Viktor’s students pass their midterm. Viktor’s novel is in the last stages.

“What are you doing on Saturday?” Viktor asks one day, dropping himself into the comfiest armchair in Yuuri’s office. _His_ armchair, officially. Last week, a student was sitting in it when Viktor came in and Yuuri made her move. Viktor was so pleased.

Yuuri pauses his frantic typing to peer over at Viktor.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Can I take you out to dinner on Saturday? There’s a really good pasta place near my apartment, and afterwards we can see a movie?”

“Dinner and a movie? Sounds like a date. But,” Yuuri smiles apologetically. “I can’t Saturday is a ritual day. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Viktor reaches over Yuuri’s desk and holds his hand. “That’s okay, I understand.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri says again, “I know that’s, like, the third date in a row that I’ve canceled.”

“It’s okay,” VIktor reassures. “But.”

Yuuri frowns. “But?”

“There’s a solution to this. What if I went with you to your ritual?”

“You want to come with me?” Yuuri blinks. “To see Lunala?”

“You come with me to all my Russian lit circle meetings. Why shouldn’t I come with you to your hobbies?”

“Because Lunala isn’t a hobby,” Yuuri says slowly. “She’s an all-seeing creature from the darkest crevices of space-time. She’s terrifying.”

“Remember what I saw when I got mugged? I handled that pretty well.”

“That’s different. I’m _much_ less powerful than she is.” Yuuri stands from his desk and moves so he can perch on the arm of Viktor’s chair. “Do you wanna spend time with me that badly?”

“Yes,” Viktor says automatically.

Yuuri smiles and then leans down to kiss him. “I'm just worried that it's too much, too fast. I don’t want to scare you off.”

Viktor gives him a look. “We've been dating for like a month. Isn't that about the time that most people meet their significant others parents?”

“I wouldn't know,” Yuuri says. “I haven't had very many relationships because of the whole cult thing.”

“I wouldn't know either.” Viktor grins. “Looks like we're perfect for each other.”

Yuuri blushes and ducks his head. When he speaks again his voice is soft.

“Okay. You can come.”

On Saturday, Viktor wears a sweater vest and his nice slacks. He figures that this is the typical “meet-the-family” outfit. Yuri calls him a square and then laughs for a solid minute.

And then Yuuri arrives and they _both_ laugh for a solid minute.

Viktor frowns. “My little brother and my boyfriend have teamed up against me.”

“Katsudon is a loser, but he’s also, like, at least 9 times cooler than you. And he doesn’t wear sweater vests.”

“Tones of cool people wear sweater vests!” Viktor protests. He turns his glare towards Yuuri. “Yuuri wears cardigans with elbow patches! That has to be lower on the coolness scale!”

“Coolness is a spectrum, sweetheart,” Yuuri replies, and Viktor is so thrilled about the pet name that he doesn’t bother pretending he’s mad anymore. “It doesn’t matter. I need you to put these on anyway.”

Yuuri takes out a pair of dark purple velvety robes out of his bag. He keeps one and hands the other to Viktor. It sparkles a little.

Viktor raises his eyebrows. “Phichit?”

“The glittery fabric was on sale, apparently.”

“You should tell Phichit to custom make you regular robes,” Viktor says “because you sparkle enough already.”

Viktor wiggles his eyebrows. He tries to wink at Yuuri, but he’s really bad at winking and so it turns into just a wonky blink. Yuuri blushes anyway.

“I’m embarrassed _for_ you,” Yuri says loudly.

“We better get going.” Yuuri takes Viktor’s elbow and ushers him out the door. “Bye, Yura!”

The air is cool and crisp tonight. They spend the entire walk to campus talking, about Viktor’s book and Yuuri’s students and everything and nothing. Before Viktor knows it, they’re in front of the elevator in the library.

“Are you sure about this?” Yuuri asks him. He’s put his hood up and the only part of his face that Viktor can see is the dim sheen of his glasses. Viktor reaches out and takes Yuuri’s hand just to assure himself that he’s real.

“I’m sure.”

They step into the elevator. Yuuri inserts a key into the slot on the lowest floor. Then he takes out a pin and pricks his finger, smearing some of his blood on the button. It’s dark, darker than human blood should be, so dark it’s almost a purplish black.

Once they get to the bottom, the elevator doors open up into a floor made of rock instead of the smooth linoleum like the library floors above them. There are torches lining the wall of what seems to be a long, rocky hallway.

“We really need to switch to electric,” Yuuri mutters, leading Viktor down the hall. “This is a huge fire hazard. We’re underneath a bunch of very papery, very flammable books. Am I the only one who’s still mad about the Library of Alexandria?”

The hallway leads them past a couple doors, all painted dark purple with golden numbers going up from one. Yuuri stops them in front of door number six.

“Um, this is gonna be a lot like a staff meeting. Just, don’t let Ciao Ciao intimidate you and don't fall into the pit.”

“Between the pit and Celestino, who’s my biggest threat?”

Yuuri looks him dead in the eye. “Celestino.”

He opens the door into a large cavern. It's so tall that Viktor can’t see the ceiling, just darkness yawning up above him. A dozen or so robed figure are milling around, holding plates of chips and salsa and chatting amiably. Viktor sees Phichit by the snack table, emptying the entire bowl of guacamole onto his plate while he talks to Chris. Viktor can tell it’s them even with their hoods blocking their faces because Phichit is gesticulating so wildly there’s no one else it could be.

Directly ahead of Viktor is the pit. It stretches out on either side, farther than he can see. The edges are smooth and made of a dark, reflective stone that fades gradually into the rocky floor.

“The obsidian is a side effect,” Yuuri explains when he sees Viktor looking. “It's fine to touch and look at, just be careful near the edge. It’s slippery.”

Viktor nods. He clutches Yuuri’s hand a little tighter.

“Viktor! Yuuri!”

Phichit and Chris are waving them over, now joined by Seung-Gil and Sara.

“We didn’t think you’d make it!” Sara says.

“We all thought that Nikiforov would chicken out before he got here.” Seung-Gil raises a red solo cup in his direction. “Congratulations on exceeding expectations.”

Yuuri eyes the cup. “Who brought alcohol?”

“Chris,” everyone says, at the same time that Chris says “Celestino.”

“Lunala doesn't like it when we drink around her,” Yuuri tsks.

“Correction, _you_ don't like it when you drink around her, because last time you drank during a meeting you tried to pole dance on a stalagmite.”

The group giggles.

Viktor gasps. “Yuuri, is that true?

Chris grins. “I have pictures.”

“I cannot believe you guys let me do that. I could have fallen into the pit and died!”

“You wouldn’t die,” Phichit reassures him. “I’d use my powers to levitate you out.”

Just then Celestino calls the meeting to order. He’s wearing crimson robes and he’s the only one of them with his hood fully down.

“His hood _should_ be up, according to tradition,” Yuuri whispers to him, “but Ciao Ciao likes showing off his hair so he leaves his hood down.”

“Okay!” Celestino booms. “Who would like to go first?”

Leo steps forward. “My spanish four kids just finished these persuasive essays on climate change.”

“Into the pit!”

Leo picks up a stack of papers from a table set up near the edge. He brings the papers over to the chasm and drops them in. The entire cave hums, and the obsidian around the mouth of the chasm glows neon purple for a moment. Leo turns around and gives everyone a pleased thumbs up.

The go around the circle from there. Seung-Gil offers his students’ english literature papers. Phichit throws in an entire tower of screen plays. Chris, Guang Hong, Sara, and the rest all only offer a few pages, but the pit accepts them nonetheless. Even Georgi’s music theory papers produce a pleased hum.

“Kiddo? Your turn.” Celestino waves at Yuuri.

“I brought in the short horror stories I had them do last week.” He nods towards the table. “Vitya, do you wanna do the honors? You can get a good look at her while you're dropping them in.”

“Okay.”

It's a struggle to detangle his fingers form Yuuri’s, but Viktor manages. He marches up to the table and picks up the only stack of papers left and then drops them over the edge.

Viktor takes a deep breath and peers in.

It’s dark, the same endless blackness that Yuuri conjured in they alleyway all those weeks ago, but _deeper_. Viktor looks into the darkness and sees whole, complete universes; he sees empires rise and crumble and split; people killing each other for petty reasons; entirely new races on new planets in new realities; he sees the laws of physics, visualized. He sees every cell of every living creature that was and is and ever will be on the Earth. Something cold and archaic and lonely calls to him. Something that lives in misty forests, in the hazy neon lights of a big city, in the space between the stars.

She calls out to him, urging him forward into her embrace, into her infinite depths. She’s inky and dripping and hazing with the amounts of raw energy radiating from her endless mass. She’s a black hole, a birthplace, and a home all at once. She’s from a time before this universe, a time of old gods and chaos. She was born of vengeance and hunger and infinity.

Viktor looks down into the pit full of endless eldritch horror before him.

And he faints.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Viktor avoids Yuuri for a week.

He’s embarrassed, mostly. Less scared, more mortified that he fainted in front of an all-seeing, all-knowing ancient being, and in front of his boyfriend and all their friends. He’s tried so hard to be cool about the whole Eldritch monster thing, but if he’s being honest–– it’s all a little much for him.

Viktor finishes his novel in that week. The protagonist defeats the vampires and musters up the courage to ask his love-interest to marry him. Viktor misses Yuuri terribly.

“You’re pathetic,” Yuri tells him, before he leaves for school that day. “If you thought the tentacle stuff was weird, you should have just told him. Now we’re all miserable.”

Viktor sighs heavily. He continues stuffing his teaching materials into his bag. “It’s not that I think it’s weird, or that I don’t _like_ Lunala––”

“You fainted on sight.”

Viktor glares. “Yura.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying. Stop avoiding him so he stops asking me if you’re alright.”

“He asks you about me?”

“Duh, you’re his boyfriend and you’re straight up ghosting him. Get some closure with the monster thing, and go apologize to him.”

Viktor takes Yuri’s advice to heart. After his classes that day, he sucks up all his fear and descends down to the basement of the library. Alone.

Well, he asks Chris to come with him at least to the elevator, since Viktor doesn’t have the keys for the lower caverns yet, but. He’s alone in spirit.

Chris waits in the elevator while Viktor goes right up to the edge of the pit.

“Hi, Lunala.”

The darkness doesn’t answer.

“I-I’m, um.” Viktor quiets the wild animal in his chest telling him to _get out now, get out while you can, something’s wrong, wrong, wrong––_ “I’m sorry for fainting last time I was here.”

Viktor’s voice echoes around the empty space, bouncing back at him. He shuffles around and takes his manuscript out of his bag. “I brought you something. It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever written, but I think you should have it.”

He feeds it to Lunala.

He stands at the edge of the pit, looks down into her infinite depths, and lets the pages fall. It flutters all the way down, falling and falling until Viktor can’t see it anymore. He only knows she receives it because the cavern rumbles happily. It’s funny. Looking down at the chasm now, the darkness seems almost comforting. Somehow warmer.

He turns and goes home. He’s so tired, but he feels lighter now.

When he gets back to his apartment, he reaches over to place his keys in the small dish he keeps on the side table. Instead of ceramic, his hand meets paper.

Viktor stops. It’s his novel.

“I think you dropped something.”

Viktor doesn’t look up. He doesn’t let himself hope.

“She liked it. She was upset that I wanted to return it to you.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes out. Yuuri shuffles forwards into his arms, warm and perfect and smelling faintly of sage.

“Sorry for breaking into your apartment.”

“Sorry for avoiding you.” Viktor pulls back so he can look Yuuri in the eyes. “I’m really sorry. I promise it’s not because I think you’re weird, or because I’m uncomfortable with you, or––”

“Or you wanted to break up with me?”

“No!” Viktor cups Yuuri’s face in his hands. “I _definitely_ don’t want to break up. I really like you, that’s why I was so insistent on learning everything I could about you and Lunala and–– I should have listened to you when you told me it would be too much, too fast.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with being with me? Even though sometimes I phase out of this reality?”

“Yes.” Viktor says firmly. He reels Yuuri in by the waist, relieved to have him in his arms after an entire week of missing him.

“And you’ll still be my boyfriend even though sometimes I float when I’m not paying attention?“ Yuuri tilts his face upwards.

“If you’re okay with all the weird things _I_ do,” Viktor says. “I’m warning you, I don’t look human in the morning before I have time to do my hair.”

Viktor pulls Yuuri into a kiss, feeling soft and hazy and incredible content. Yuuri is grinning when he pulls back.

“I’ve seen stranger things.”

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things:  
> • okay so. HP Lovecraft was [actually pretty racist](https://mediadiversified.org/2014/05/24/the-n-word-through-the-ages-the-madness-of-hp-lovecraft/) and [super gross and xenophobic](https://www.avclub.com/how-h-p-lovecraft-speaks-to-our-terrifying-political-t-1798249929)(TW for the use of the N word) and I wanted to keep the mysterious existential imagery but loose all the racism so to combat that I wanted to flip the usual convention of dark= scary, and instead have the darkness represent adventure and mystery and the vastness of the universe (LOL it's very deliberate the Viktor gets mugged in full light of a street lamp, but is saved by Yuuri's shadowy powers) ANYWAY!! i'm honestly kind of attached to this AU and I might come back to it on some point to expand this point  
> • sorry this isn't a stranger things au  
> • this is unbeta'd + minimally edited because a) ur girl just dragged herself through midterms and b) this whole halloween week thing im doing is 24K in total so far and. i'm so tired pls let me save my actual editing skills for my english papers. pls hold back any criticism/ corrections unless you think it's really important
> 
> thats it! i'm [xyloophones](https://xyloophones.tumblr.com/) on tumblr (seriously. pls someone email tumblr to give me the xylophones URL it's a saved URL and i'm suffering) and... i really don't use twitter much but i'm [@_xylophones](https://twitter.com/_xylophones) but honestly... just message me on tumblr


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